


The Night Greg Almost Lost His Sight (and His Lab, and His Sanity, and...)

by Nigaishin



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Crack, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaishin/pseuds/Nigaishin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PURE CRACK, not to be taken seriously in any way. Greg's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Greg Almost Lost His Sight (and His Lab, and His Sanity, and...)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted in 2005 on LJ.  
> Unbetaed.  
> Should have slept more, but unleashed the crazy instead :)

 

 

I'm going to kill Nick.

That. Simple.

I'm going to go over to his place, ring the bell, wait and hopefully wake him up, flash him a 100watt smile when he opens the door and then wrap my fingers around his neck.

Oh yeah.

Damn rain.

I told him, call me if there's any problem, I'll just come over, but I really, really need the car.

Ok, I should be glad he agreed to let me borrow it in the first place.

I wonder what he meant with "I have a ride, anyway".

\-- did he get a girlfriend and didn't tell me?

I'm so killing him.

Making me wait there under the pouring rain.

Alone.

Bored.

... well, actually, after the first five minutes or so I didn't mind so much, this really, really beautiful girl walked up to me and, wow, talked to me.

Just like that.

Ok, she was just asking me about the next bus schedule, but whatever.

I just couldn't stop looking at her eyes. And her mouth, she had the cutest pout I've seen in a while.

A pity she wasn't wearing sandals.

  


 

I hurry up the stairs to Nick's front door, and latch my finger onto the doorbell.

See if he leaves me outside in the rain again.

After a couple of minutes I've rung about everything with that bloody doorbell, mOBSCENE, Should I Stay or Should I Go, some tune I heard on the radio earlier and I'd really rather have forgotten but obviously haven't, now that I think about it, everything, and nobody has shown up yet.

 

I should feel so abandoned.

Then I remember he showed me where he keeps his spare key, and his Tahoe is in the parking lot, and so I guess I'll just let myself in and get the car keys myself.

I'll even leave him a note, if I feel particularly magnanimous once I find them.

I look around and walk in quietly, my mind conjuring all the possible scenarios that have me laying on the floor, bleeding, ambushed by one of his crazy neighbors.

 

And people say I'm weird. They should come over sometimes and wait till they ring the bell, asking for... _eggs. Flour. They were thinking about making a cake, you see. And then realized they were out of eggs, flour and milk. No thanks, sugar's ok_.

I spot the keys on the counter and smile.

HA! MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

Mh.

I'm such a dope, feeling kind of guilty after what he did. Damn rain.

Sigh.

I guess I should leave him a note, afterall, lest he freaks out when he comes home -where is he, anyway? Is he doing someone? I feel so left out- and calls the cops, and well, ok, I don't mind doing it in public places (the thrill and all), I might like handcuffs and maybe the uniform kinda turns me on too, but I always liked them on my girl rather then on the policeman tapping his knuckles on the car window, trying to get our attention. Of course, I'm not saying the policeman has to be naked, eh. Ugh. Bad image, bad Greggo, bad.

 _No, officer, we're not making out in a stolen car, I swear, it's just that my bestfriend all but forgot about me, and no, that's not some way to get back at my boyfriend, what the hell, anyway, if you could wait just for about 20 minutes more you'll have a murderer here, fresh for you._

I walk into the kitchen as I try to convince the police officer in my head that it's _absolutely lecit, well, maybe not lecit, but normal, to kill your bestfriend, and no, I told you he's not my boyfriend, ewww, guy snores like a train, and no, I'm not admitting sodomy, what the hell?_ , when my mind goes blank.

I freeze in the doorway, keys almost slipping from my slack fingers.

I can almost feel the pain in my chin from where my jaw hit the floor.

I am the missing link between mankind and fishes, I am a little merboy, I've got no tail but got the gaping part down pat. A tail would have been so much fun, though.

Nick and Hodges are naked, laying half-way on the kitchen table, very moaning, very sweating, very oblivious to me being there, very having sex.

Nick's hand is between their bodies, obviously pumping their cocks while Hodges has his fingers clasped hard on his shoulders-- that's going to leave marks, wow.

Ugh. What am I thinking. And the police officer's trying to arrest me too, says I'm tripping out of my head ( _that's persecution, man!_ ), and dammit, but I so wish I was right now.

That was something I really didn't need to see.

Expecially the naked-Hodges-having-sex part.

And the with-my-best-friend part too.

I'd have more than gladly lived on with my belief Hodges was some kind of perversely sarcastic humanoid asexuate creature that had somehow come - _oh god, bad choice of words, bad_ \- to annoy us all to hell.

 

Emphasis on the asexuate part.

I think I lost my sight.

I'll have to learn braille.

I don't want to learn braille!

They probably won't let me work in the lab anymore, oh god, my lab!

I won't cry, I won't.

They come with a loud groan and a shout, slumping down, spent.

 _Like HELL I won't._

"Well... this surely gives that _I have a ride_ comment a whole new meaning..." I mutter, lightly, still transfixed.

I might have gone blind, but the sight ( _hey! not blind afterall!_ ) of Nick yelping like a girl and pushing away from the table only to end up sprawling on his butt, Hodges somehow getting dragged after him, is rewarding enough.

  
~fin


End file.
